Turks in Kalm
by whatevergirl
Summary: Veld has to deal with a young Turk who's been with them less than a year. Just a One-Shot. Veld/Vincent Please R


**Turks in Kalm**

He sighed, and pushed his bangs out of his face. The new kid was really getting on his nerves... not that he was all that new, having been in the Turks over 8 months now.. Nor was he really a kid, only 4 years younger than Veld. Regardless, Vincent Valentine was annoying him.

It wasn't that he was sat getting his paper work done. It wasn't that he was talking a lot; he'd barely spoken a word. It wasn't even that he in any way untidy, the young man was a picture of perfection. The problem was that he wasn't listening. Veld wanted to know what had happened on the mission Valentine was filing his report for. The quiet man had just given him a look that quite clearly stated it was none of his business, and then picked up his pen.

Their boss, Tamara, was still in the medical unit. He'd asked her, but she'd grimaced and told him that it wasn't the time.

The silence felt almost unbearable. No one ignored him – no one. Valentine included.

"Hey! You still haven't told me what went on." Veld's voice was low, but deadly. It was the tone he used when he really meant business.

Valentine frowned at the sheet, then slowly raised his head.

"I fail to see what this has to do with you. I know that you already went down to see Tamara. If she didn't answer your questions, why should I? Don't give me any shit about you being higher up than me, or having worked longer. That makes no real difference. I answer to those I respect. So far, you have done nothing to earn that respect. You've shown yourself to be bossy and short tempered."

Veld stared. He couldn't really object, he had been fairly short with Valentine. Having someone who'd just turned 18 join had been a blow to his ego. Veld had joined over 2 years ago, and had been the youngest Turk they'd ever had. He enjoyed the jealousy others showed at his skills. He was good with pretty much every weapon, and had got high marks in the intelligence test that all Turk candidates had to take.

Vincent Valentine was tall, thin but still very strong. He was quite pretty, with black hair that fell into his eyes. His eyes were a strange brown colour, the same as Dr Valentine's- Veld knew they were related, they usually sat together at lunch, but he wasn't sure if they were father and son, or uncle and nephew. He was fairly certain they weren't brothers though. Valentine was really clever too. Though, that was probably something that ran in the family. The young man was being trained in more than just guns and daggers. He needed a wider range of skills. However, with his weapons of choice, he was a deadly opponent. He wasn't too amazing in the training grounds, at least not when it came to sneaking around. He was adequate, else he'd not have come this far, but he was nowhere near as good as Veld. Something he was quite smug about.

Most of the time, Veld didn't mind Valentine. His sarcasm was annoying, though it could be very funny. At least, it was when he directed it at other people. He was very quiet. He didn't usually say more than a few sentences in a conversation, unless he was trying to get the orders clear in his head.

He bowed his head slightly, in acknowledgement of what the other was objecting to.

"I am sorry. It is not the way I wish to appear. Perhaps we can start again?"

Valentine looked into his eyes, as though searching for something, then nodded his head.

"Vincent Valentine." He stated, holding out his hand. "Call me Vincent though."

"Veld." He accepted, unable to keep the smirk from his face.

"Good. Now go occupy yourself while I work."

Apparently Valen- No, Vincent. Apparently Vincent still wasn't in the mood to divulge.

* * *

A few weeks later, and the two of them were sat in a car together. Veld was driving them to Kalm. It was a decent journey, and usually took about 2 hours to get there, however, there had been more traffic than expected, as an overturned lorry and poor traffic control had caused some large queues.

Valentine was fidgeting. He clearly didn't enjoy just sitting. Veld could once again feel his patience wearing thin.

"Sit still! Gods, Vincent."

"Bored..." He mumbled.

"Maybe so, but it's very distracting."

"So? We aren't going anywhere."

"Not my fault. You think you can do any better, you drive!"

Vincent scowled, but shut up, and made an effort to sit still. He hadn't ever learnt to drive, even though Tamara wanted him too.

It was the middle of August, and it was hot. Veld had been sat for a good 40 minutes, the last 10 of which they hadn't budged an inch. Vincent had his door open and seatbelt off. Veld would have objected, he was fairly strict about seatbelts, but at this point, it really wasn't necessary. He opened his door too, hoping to let some of the hot air out.

"I'd rather go back to that little village and let them try to set the god within me free again than sit here anymore."

"God within you? Is that what happened a few weeks ago?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. They were convinced I was a god, that had been forced to live as a human as punishment for some terrible crime up in the heavens, I think... I speak the main language, but that dialect was a bit weird. They didn't want to hurt me before the ritual, so they focused their attacks on Tamara."

"How could anyone mistake you for a god?"

"Obviously, I ooze perfection."

Veld smirked, and pulled his door shut; he could see the traffic in front of them starting to move. Vincent swung his legs in, and pulled his door shut.

"Seatbelt."

An eyebrow was raised, but his order was obeyed. They finally set off.

* * *

Kalm was a quiet town. It was late afternoon, and Veld was ready for a rest. He drove them straight to the hotel, and told Vincent that he could do what he liked this evening, so long as it wasn't too loud. The teenager gave him a mock salute, grabbed the spare room key and left.

Veld didn't object, but decided it was time for a bath. It had taken over 3 hours to get here. His muscles were sore from the position he'd been sat in. Relaxation was in order.

With the hot water run, and complementary bath salts giving off a gentle scent of lavender, Veld undressed. He grabbed a loose t-shirt and the old slacks he'd packed, as well as his wash bag and a towel. Hopefully Valentine wouldn't be back for a while yet. He eased himself into the water and sighed. Veld's eyes slid shut as he leaned back.

* * *

"Veld? Veld!!? What the hell are you doing in there?"

"Wha-?" Veld opened his eyes, and rubbed them blearily. He looked around, it was dark. The light from outside the window was gone. He pulled himself up, out of the lukewarm water and grabbed his towel.

"Veld!! Get a move on. I want to go to bed!"

"Bed?"

"Yes!! It's past 11pm."

"Oh, shit."

"Come on." He quickly dried himself, pulled on his clothes and hurried out.

Vincent was leaning against the wall outside the bathroom.

"Finally. As nothing has moved since we got here, I figured you probably haven't eaten. So I brought up some food for you."

On the right bed, which Vincent had apparently labelled Veld's; there lay a tray, with a roast dinner on.

"Didn't know what meat you like, so I got you a bit of everything. And I didn't know what you wanted to drink either, so that's orange juice and soda water."

That said, Vincent went into the bathroom with his bag and shut the door. The 22 year old man stood and stared at the blank door. He'd never had a partner who looked after him like that. He could see why Tamara always tried to rationalise taking him with her. He didn't seem like he cared much about people, but his actions could contradict that, at times.

Veld sat down on his bed and hungrily ate. The food wasn't very warm, but he knew that the hotel stopped serving food at 10, so it had been sat at least an hour. It was definitely preferable to having nothing at all.

* * *

He couldn't sleep. This was really annoying. Not 3 metres from him, Vincent was dreaming. He could tell from the way he was twisting, and muttering. Veld wanted to hit him over the head, and tell him to shut up. But it really wouldn't be fair. It's not like it was a desperately hard mission. Right now, they were just gathering information. They were on what Veld considered a police job. Catching murderers should not be a job handed to professional murderers. Not that the kid had killed anyone yet, but he would in time. Hopefully it wouldn't kill that innocent streak that seemed to run through him. Still, the kid was clever. He had been in a few situations so far where most people would have killed their opponent. (According to Tamara, he'd only worked with Vincent a few times, and this was the first time as his partner.)

However, the young man had a few annoying traits, and this one ranked top. Veld needed silence to sleep. The slightest noise would wake him and Vincent wouldn't settle. He sat up and switched on the lamp by his bad.

Vincent's face was twisted, as though he was in pain. His mind went back to their boss, warning him that Vincent may not have recovered from the previous away mission, but he refused to tell her what happened when they got separated. It hadn't really made much sense to him before. He'd acknowledged her, and said he'd keep an eye out for the kid, but he wasn't sure what he was looking for. Having received an explanation of what did happen to him, Veld could sort of work out where certain problems may lie.

He let out a deep breath, before leaning over, and pulling Vincent into his arms. He tried to imagine it was his nephew, even though Vincent was a good 10 years older than him. After a few moments, the kid settled. He mumbled something, and wriggled to get comfortable. Veld sat with him another 20 minutes before setting him back into the covers and crawling back to his own bed. Sleep came easier and quicker than he expected.

* * *

Veld was bored. Vincent had split up from him about half an hour ago to 'mingle with the crowds'. The main reason for this being he still hadn't got the hang of hiding in the shadows. The reason he told Vincent was that they needed information gathering. Veld was waiting for their target to move, but the old man was enjoying a cup of tea out the front of a coffee shop. He gazed around, and spotted Vincent. He was speaking to a young woman, probably in her late teens too. Veld felt a strange surge of anger as he watched the woman hanging off his kid's arm. She had a bright smile on her face, and could be considered pretty. Vincent was smiling too, and it looked quite care-free, except Veld knew this particular smile, as it used to be directed at him. It was Vincent's guarded smile, where he didn't really trust who he was talking too, but wanted to appear as though he did.

He went back to gazing at his target, waiting for the man to do something suspicious; anything suspicious, just so that he had something to report.

* * *

Several hours later Veld wandered back to their room. It had been very dull. The target had finished his tea, paid and left. He'd then gone and done some grocery shopping, went home put it away, and then went for a walk by the river. He'd then met the young woman who had been clinging to Vincent earlier, and they had gone to a restaurant to eat. Veld had left then, his own hunger telling him that nothing was going to happen so he may as well eat something.

He pushed the key in the lock, and shoved the door open. On the left bed, by the window sat Valentine. He was writing in a note pad and glanced up at Veld.

"Get anywhere?"

"No. It was the longest 5 hours I've ever experienced... You?"

"Yeah, actually. I found this girl, and she was his granddaughter. She told me loads about him. I'm writing it all down now. Apparently he's been acting really weird recently. You know? Grouchy and short tempered."

Vincent suddenly smirked and looked up at Veld.

"Don't even say it kid. Cos I don't get grouchy, just tired."

He tilted his head, an angelic look spread across his face.

"Say what? My dear Veld, I would never intentionally insult you!!"

"Whatever. I'm going for food. You coming?"

Vincent 'mmm'-ed his response and stood up. He shoved his feet in his trainers and held his notebook and pen in his hand.

"Let's go."

* * *

"Yeah, but what's the point?"

"There is no point."

"Really? ... I don't get it..."

"Yes Vincent, that's because you are wasted."

"Take that back!! I'm no waste."

"No, you aren't. You are very drunk though. I forget you're only 18. Not as much drinking experience as me."

"I'm nearly 19! But no... My father doesn't like me drinking. He says it's really bad for you."

"Well, he's not wrong."

"He's not right either."

The two of them were sat in the hotel bar. Veld was on his 5th beer, Vincent was on his 3rd. He would have liked to laugh, and call him a light weight, but his own head was starting to spin. He's forgotten how strong Kalm's home brew was.

"Which one's your father?"

"Huh? Well, he'd not here..."

"I know, I mean... have I ever seen him?"

"I usually sit with him at lunch. He worries about me eating the wrong stuff, or not eating at all." Vincent laughed softly, a free laugh, more so than the young man would normal have. "I tell him I'm fine. But he doesn't listen. 'Snot my fault if I can't eat 3 meals a day. At least, not 3 big meals. I like to eat lots of little bits. You know?"

"Yeah... Let's go back. May not be able to walk properly if I keep going."

He finished off his beer, then after a moment, finished Vincent's as well. He then stood up and pulled the other along with him.

"Thanks now. Bye!" The barmaid called as she went to collect their empty glasses.

"Bye." Vincent replied to her with a grin.

"Oh, don't forget your stuff." She hurried over to them with Vincent's notebook and pen.

"Thank you."

The two left and went over to the lift. Vincent leaned heavily on him, and looked up through his eyelashes at Veld.

"Fuck, Vincent. Quit staring like that."

The pretty face below him marred with a frown.

"No, sorry. Just, please, don't stare."

It was filling his head with ideas he knew he'd cringe at in the morning. The lift door opened and Vincent left, without glancing at Veld. His back was stiff, and the man could tell the last comment hadn't removed whatever insult Vincent felt he'd received.

Once in their room, Veld placed his arms either side of Vincent, pinning the young man to the wall.

"Don't go acting all insulted. If I ask you not to do something, there is a very good reason for it."

Vincent stared up at him again through his eyelashes. The hurt look on his face left a pain in Veld's chest.

Vincent leaned up and kissed him. It was not a neat kiss, in fact, Veld felt the other was lucky to hit his mouth, but that didn't matter. Veld couldn't help but respond to the lips that were moving over his own.

His arms slid down from the wall, around Vincent's waist. He held the other close, his hands moving up and down his back. He slid one had over Vincent's arse, but the other grimaced and reached behind him, pulling Veld's hand back up to his back. He kissed Vincent's soft lips a few more times before pulling back.

Vincent shifted slightly, and rested his head one Veld's chest. Veld stood still, taking slow, deep breaths to try and calm himself. He could already tell he was going to have certain problems in the morning, but hopefully Vincent was too drunk to remember. However, he had to admit, the young man didn't seem that drunk at all. Still, he could always hope.

He looked down, and saw Vincent's eyes were shut, his body completely relaxed against his own. He carefully moved Vincent over to his bed, before removing their shoes. Collapsing on his own bed, his own mind shut off all thoughts, and his was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Tamara smirked. Veld and Vincent had come back from their mission in Kalm a few days ago. They had gathered a rather large amount of information on their target, but that wasn't all too interesting. At least, not in comparison to her imagination. The way the two men flinched whenever she suggested they did things together... they were going to be partnered together far more often. Even if it was just for her own amusement. Besides, they clearly worked well together. Maybe she could get Veld to teach Vincent the finer skills of creeping, and hiding. There was probably a large amount they could teach each other.

* * *

a/n: There, just a one shot I felt like doing. Currently, I'm doing a story on Grimoire Valentine, but I got this idea in my head, so couldn't quite resist typing it up. I very much enjoy writing about Turk Vincent, so I may end up doing more, but not just yet. Anyway, please send a review my way, to let me know what you think.


End file.
